Metal Gear Evil
by TJ Hix
Summary: Metal Gear meets Resident Evil...why not? A buddy of mine started this piece, I decided to pick it up and continue with it since he has all but abandoned it. For the record, I do not claim to own any of the characters involved.
1. Chapter 1

"Snake, can you hear me?" Otacon asked over Solid Snake's nano-wired communication device.

"Loud and clear Otacon." Snake replied in his usual gruff monotone.

"How you holding up out there?"

"It's cold. And I can barely see a damn thing in this blizzard."

Snake was thigh deep in a white blanket of snow, out in the middle of what appeared to be endless amounts of the stuff for miles. But this was to be expected, after all, he was knee deep in a reconnaissance mission in the middle of Russia.

"You sure your contacts gave you the right information? I don't see a cardboard box out here, let alone some questionable nuclear research outpost."

"If by contacts," Otacon started sarcastically, "You mean my hacking into the pentagon. Then yes, I'm sure. It has to be there somewhere. The coordinates are dead-on."

"Hmmm." Snake growled as he peered the landscape over through a pair of binoculars. It had been nearly three years since he'd left Raiden standing alone, looking like a tool, after the "Sons of Liberty" incident. His trail on Ocelot had gone cold. The Patriots were still an unsolved mystery, as were the twelve dead men who had presided as the patriots. Snake had nearly grown bored with his life, until the day Otacon had managed to locate information regarding a re-opened nuclear outpost and the possibility of a new Metal Gear production. Everything seemed to fit into place, after all, this outpost was owned by the presently deceases Col. Gurlukovich at one time. Maybe someone had stepped up in the arms race to take Gurlukovich's place. But so far, the mission seemed to be nothing more than a wild goose chase. And so here he was, the "Legendary" Solid Snake, standing in the middle of a barren snow filled, so cold that even the flame on his cigarette had frozen over.

"Wait just a minute…" Snake grunted as he peered off into the blizzard.

"Have you found something?" Otacon called back.

"Bingo!" Snake answered. Off in the distance, two bright beams cut through the snow, the roar of an engine almost lost over the whispering winds. And then they vanished, as if they had never been there at all.

"What the?" Snake asked quizzically.

"What's going on, Snake?"

"I just saw two beams, like headlights from a vehicle. And I distinctively heard the sound of what may've possibly been a jeep. But I couldn't see the vehicle, and then it just disappeared…"

"There's a good chance they may be using stealth camouflage on their vehicles. It's a measure taken from old spy movies, so no one sees them moving about."

"Maybe, but there's no way they stealth camouflaged an entire nuclear research outpost!" Snake snapped back.

"No, I don't think so. But the paint scheme of the outpost is probably designed to match it's surroundings, making it virtually invisible amongst the snow."

"But not to satellites, and that's how the Pentagon knew it was still here."

"Right. Snake, try following the tracks left in the snow by the jeep before the snow covers them again. It should get you close enough to the front door that you can slip in. But watch out for surveillance…"

"This ain't my first walk in the park, Otacon." Snake interrupted. He was already on the tracks and moving quickly as he spoke. As he traversed the field, an off-white color became visible to him. He had found the front gate to the facility. He pondered for a moment how exactly he was going to get in, and then his train of thought was interrupted by the distant sound of another engine…this one coming his way.

Snake quickly rolled behind a small mound of snow and waited, and soon the jeep was practically beside him. He could tell, because the only thing he could see, were two masked heads that appeared to be floating on air, and two bright headlight beams in front of them. As the gate opened to allow the jeep in, Snake rolled onto his back, behind the jeep and reached for nothingness, and ended up grabbing the camouflaged rear bumper. And so the invisible jeep rolled into the compound, dragging a snow suit camouflaged Snake behind it.

As the jeep entered the compound, it's stealth camouflage was dropped and the jeep became visible once more. Snake noticed that the inside walls were the usual dirty steel color as most facilities, and took relief in the fact that he could soon ditch his snow suit for his usual mission attire. As the jeep passed under what appeared to be a radio tower's shadow, snake released it and rolled over into the darkest area of shade.

"Okay Otacon, I'm in." Snake whispered. "But something's not right here."

"How do you mean?" Otacon asked.

"I mean, the place is almost deserted. There's maybe two guards in the radio tower, and two by the entry gate, but that's about it."

"Maybe they're not worried so much about intruders with the snow camo scheme. Can you identify the soldiers?"

Snake pulled his binoculars out of his coat pocket and peered towards the guards at the gate.

"They're Gurlukovich men, alright." Snake frowned, "You figure they'd find something else to do with their lives with their _beloved _leader having been dead all these years."

"They're soldiers, Snake. This is the only thing they're good at. They're basically dogs of war for hire. At least they're not Genome soldiers, right?"

"Right. I'm not looking for a _family reunion _anytime soon."

"Okay. Snake, my screens are showing at least two massive sub-levels beneath you. You'll have to find an elevator to gain access to those floors."

"Piece of cake." Snake replied as he removed his snow suit, discarding it. He retrieved his M9 tranquilizer pistol from his side and crept alongside the shadows of the radio tower. It was no problem at all to drop the two mindless gate guards as they patrolled the front yard. He then simply dragged one off to a corner and removed his uniform, hiding the soldier's body under a blanket of snow.

"Good luck with that cold." Snake quipped as he disguised himself in the soldier's duds. Grabbing the M14, he proceeded in a march across the large yard of the post, following the tracks the jeep had made once again. He made his way past what appeared to be a parking lot for the compound's vehicles and joined a small group of soldiers near a set of large framed double steel doors, making sure he didn't speak to anyone around him.

"On your feet grunts!" A loud voice boomed from large megaphones built onto the walls. "The co-commander of the base is approaching!"

Snake quickly fell into formation with the rest of the soldiers, playing his role to the bone.

"Alright." He pondered silently to himself. "This may be a lot easier than we thought." He started pacing back and forth in his mind. Who was it? Ocelot? Maybe whoever was running the patriot scheme? His thoughts quickly fell away as the double doors opened, pulling away from each other on magnetic tracts. He quickly snapped to attention with the rest of the soldiers as a tall man with blonde slicked-back hair, calmly stepped out of a large freight elevator. This man was unfamiliar to Snake. But he gave him an odd vibe, walking with a calm sense of confidence, wearing an all black uniform and black aviator shades…

"Gentlemen." The blonde man spoke through a low and cool tone. "It appears several people from the American government may be on to our…" he paused, eyeing the troupe from behind those dark shades. "Little scheme here. As a matter of fact, they may have already sent a spy to stand amongst us."

Was the blonde man on to him? Snake thought as he continued to peer ahead. How could he be? There wasn't a surveillance camera in sight when he had entered. And no one had seen him thus far. Plus it wasn't exactly like he was working for the US government, hell, he was wanted by them too.

"Should we keep an eye out for any intruders, sir?" One of the grunts at the end of the line asked aloud.

"No. You are to continue manning your posts until further notice." The blonde man calmly replied, walking down the line. "Besides…" He stopped and latched his arm out at inhuman speed, latching onto Snake's throat making him drop the M14. He just as quickly lifted him off the ground before turning and looking up at him. "I have him right here."

The blonde man laughed as Snake struggled in his grasp. His mind racing. Who or what the hell is this guy? How is he this strong? Snake began kicking as he struggled, the tightened grip cutting him short of breath. One wild kick happened to knock the blonde man's aviator shades to the ground, and then Snake saw them…those glowing orange-ish-red eyes. The blonde man laughed as Snake began to fall unconscious, then he heard an all-too familiar voice as his vision failed him…

"See Wesker, I told you he never learns."

And then everything was black.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

" Well, I suppose that could've gone better. Eh, Leon?" The southern voice called out as two men exited a dump of a bar, the man speaking looking much like a scraggly Brad Pitt.

" If you hadn't insulted the bar keep, there wouldn't be seven bruised egos lying back there." The second man responded. He was a bit taller and cleaner looking, with medium length brown hair.

" Okay. So my Russian isn't so great."

"You called him a 'Bear Fucker', Bruce."

"Is that what I said? I thought I was complimenting him on the drink. Next thing I know I got two ruskies throwing me half way 'cross the damn bar. But them moves they taught you in the secret service…They came in handy. I mean, ya broke that one guys arm with just a flick of your wrist."

Leon didn't respond. He had no reason to brag about his skills. After all he was trained to do his job, not gloat. But it wasn't as though he didn't enjoy the moment. Hell, he hadn't seen this much action since he'd been sent into that tiny European community to save the president's daughter… The Los Illuminados mission…

And then he was called into a meeting with the secretary of foreign affairs, a week ago. Information had been obtained about new viral research possibly being conducted in the remains of an outdated military research outpost somewhere in the frozen wastelands of Russia. He was chosen almost immediately for the job, what with his prior experience with the Raccoon city zombie outbreak and most recent Los Illuminados situation. But he was informed that he would not be going in alone on this one. Since he would be working for the government's US Stratcom division, he would be partnered with their top agent; Bruce McGivern, who like Leon, had previous experience with the living dead and the manufacturing company responsible…Umbrella.

"Wonder what base is gonna have to say about that little _scuffle _back there?" Bruce questioned as he pulled his hood up over his head, the snow blowing all around them, creating a thick blanket beneath their feet.

"Probably not as much as the hell we'll get for not being any closer to answers than we currently are." Leon quipped. "It's been a week, and not a single person can tell us where the Kremlin outpost is…"

"Did you say Kremlin?" A raspy voice called out from behind a burning oil barrel just off in the thick of the snow.

Without hesitation, Leon retrieved his Blacktail nine millimeter from his side and had it steadily aimed with red laser precision just above the glow of the barrel. Bruce cocked an eyebrow and peered in the same direction, although not drawing his weapon.

"Who's there?" Bruce called out.

"Does the US Stratcom teach you guys to walk into situations unarmed?" Leon asked with a sense of frustration.

"Easy there boy scout." Bruce answered, his eyes still fixed upon the wall behind the barrel. "Something tells me we may be headed in the right direction for once."

"I mean you no harm. I swear…" The hidden voice called out. And then the small frame of a man rose from behind the barrel and walked closer to Leon and Bruce.

"Slow. I want to see your hands." Leon bellowed out, noticing the shadow of a foreign object clutched tightly in the man's hand.

As the man came into view, the guys could tell the foreign object was nothing more than a bottle of cheap Russian vodka. His clothes consisted of nothing more than a tattered coat, a shirt and pants with holes in them, and some worn and withered shoes. His hair was dark gray and matted, meeting his similar looking beard, which seemed to be soaked with vodka. And dear god, the smell…

Leon lowered his gun, but hesitated to put it away. Bruce smirked and waved the bum forward.

"What'cha got there buddy?" He asked, looking down at the vodka.

"The best damn drink this side of…well, everything!"

"Hey…" Leon started. "You called out to us when we mentioned the Kremlin. You know anything about that?"

"Hells yeah, tovarisch." The bum replied. "Used to be a military outpost during the days of good ol' Col. Gurlukovich."

"But he's dead now." Leon responded.

"Well o'course he is…hic…I resigned from his regime afterwards." The bum paused and took a swallow from his nearly finished bottle. "And then these crazy things started to happen. Men walking into town…attacking people…"

"What kind of men?" Leon asked.

"Well…they looked like my old comrades, but I tell you they wasn't! I looked right into one fellers eyes…and he was completely gone…like he wasn't there." The bum paused again and finished what remained within his bottle. "I watched this same feller rip into a woman a few blocks from here…her husband came out and put two rounds of a shotgun deep into his chest. But it didn't stop him. No sir…he walks towards the man and just rips into him. I can't swear to it, but I think he was eatin' the guy!"

"Bingo!" Bruce about shouted, causing the bum to become startled.

"What happened to this violent soldier?" Leon was quick to ask.

"Well…he finally went down with a blast to the head…took half of it off actually. And then the woman and her husband started to get real sick like. So more soldiers come into town, but they seem to be okay. They march straight into the people's house and…hic…start shooting the whole place up! The doctor too…"

"Sounds like our guys, Leon." Bruce said.

"No doubt." Leon responded. He holstered his handgun before turning back to the bum. "Say… We have a jeep parked a few feet from the pub behind us. You think you could show us the way to the Kremlin?"

"I could…hic…" The bum started. "But my memory's a bit foggy with it having been a few years. But I'm sure another bottle of vodka would help…hic…me remember."

"Why you drunken son of a…" Bruce started as he reached back for his Punisher nine millimeter. Leon quickly threw a hand out, stopping him in his tracks.

"Not a problem." Leon reassured the bum, looking down at the empty bottle. "What's that you're drinking? Oh no. That's no good. I think a saw a better brand back at the pub. Wait here. Bruce…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't shoot the guy."

Leon hurried back towards the pub, leaving the bum and Bruce to stare at each other. After a few seconds of silence, Bruce broke the calm of the cold.

"You realize you saw zombies, right?"


End file.
